Page 41 of Her Soul for a Crown

The air sat thick in Reeri’s lungs, pinched at his shadow.

A light song swayed from the center of the throne room, where Calu held the Bone Blade for Kama and Sohon to see.

Palms damp, Reeri snatched it.

“What are you doing?” Calu asked nervously, eyeing the blade.

“More importantly, why did you wake us in the middle of the night?” Sohon stifled a yawn.

“We have to perform the soul sacrifice. Now,” Reeri said, a slight tremble in his hand.

How many had he let down like he did Anula?

How many suffered because he and the other Yakkas were controlled by Wessamony?

How much blood was truly on his hands? He could take it no longer.

With one last step, he could right all the wrongs.

Even if he could not bring Anula’s family back, he could give her what she had been asking for all these weeks: a crown and a chance to change her kingdom.

Reeri straightened. “We cleave Anula’s soul and then use the Bone Blade before Wessamony has a chance to come after us all. It is best to invoke the powers of it first. There is no telling how quickly he will react.”

“What? Kama does not have her essence offering,” Calu argued.

“We will make do with three. Wessamony created all the Yakkas from one soul, mayhap the cosmos does not demand as much as we think.”

“Is that not a risk? We only have once chance to free them and kill Wessamony.”

Reeri gripped the blade and paced. Indeed, it was a risk. But Anula could rescind her bargain to spite him for what he had done. For what he had not done. And he would lose his one chance at making amends.

Calu shook his head. “I think we should wait. We have time to get the proper number of essence—”

“No, we do not,” Reeri snapped. “The longer we wait, the longer our brethren and our patrons suffer under Wessamony. We must act now.”

“Mayhap we test it,” Sohon said. “Ensure we can use only three.”

“How does one test an offering?” Kama sang.

“We ask the cosmos?”

“It is not often prone to answer.”

Reeri growled. Testing did not matter—succeeding did.

Calu neared, pointing to the relic in Reeri’s hand. “I was going to tell you at breakfast, but that relic looks familiar to me.”

“Of course it does.” Sohon scoffed. “It is Heavenly; it calls to us.”

“No, I mean it looks very familiar.”

The door swung open. “My raja,” Bithul started. Reeri tensed, the shadow bristling. There were too many interruptions. Time was wasting. “Anula is—”

“Great Heavenly Divinity, Fate,” Reeri bellowed, holding the blade to the emerging morning sun. It sparkled, as though it could flame like Wessamony’s Golden Sword. “Hear my cry and grant me the power of your Bone Blade.”

The blade shuddered; a heat that had nothing to do with Reeri’s palms swelled.

The keening pitched higher, quivering Reeri’s shadow, shaking his soul.

A finger of dread cooled his spine. The keening erupted.

Ivory shattered, and iron sliced right through Reeri’s hand.

What was left of the blade slashed its way through the room.

Kama and Sohon ducked, but Calu threw himself against Bithul and tumbled to the floor.

“Catch it!” Calu demanded.

Reeri took a step forward and faltered, his vision swimming. The floor rushed to meet his face, cracking his cheek. The room blinked in and out of view.

Grabbing Bithul’s cane, Kama knocked the blade away. Calu stayed sprawled across the guard, covering his face and chest. The blade curved around the room and sailed back at them, gaining speed. Kama hit the blade away again. It spun as Reeri’s stomach plunged.

Many have died in their search for a relic or in use of a cursed imitation.

The prophet had been right. The blade was no relic, merely an imitation, bargained for and cursed by the Second Heavens.

By one of them.

Sohon lifted a statue, which sang out with cheer, until the iron blade hit and embedded itself too deep. It shook and shuddered and finally shattered, taking the blessed gift along with it. Reeri turned over and retched.

“Why would you not listen?” Calu raged overhead.

Picking himself off the floor, Reeri touched his head. It was as murky as a puddle. “I did not mean to—”

“To what? Do this alone?” Calu seethed. “Yes, you did! You refuse to let us help for no reason. If you had taken a moment to hear me out, you would have known that I recognized that blade. If you had let me speak, I would have told you that a human once made a bargain for a false relic. One that stole the mind of whoever it cut. You are lucky Sohon managed to destroy it afore it took hold! Else Anula would have had to poison you into a new body.”

His words nipped. Was Reeri fated to nothing but damnation? A disease upon all around him?

“Did you not think to tell us of your false blade before we began searching?” Sohon snapped at Calu.

“Do you remember every single one of your bargains?” Calu snarled back.

“What is done is done. Now we move forward with the truth and time enough for me to find a heart.” Kama picked the guard off the floor, dusted his shoulders.

Throat thick with shame, Reeri said, “Bithul, I am sorry.”

“No apologies necessary,” the guard said. “But why didn’t you have Anula wield the relic? Is that not what you want her for?”

Four Yakkas paused.

“Why would we want that?” Sohon asked.

Bithul looked puzzled. “The stories of old tell us that the Divinities created their relics for the goodness of humanity. A connection was made between the two, and only one of them could wield a relic.”

Reeri’s shadow stilled. They were a connection made solely between Divinity and humanity. The prophet’s words came back to him. Wessamony had known it; the reason he had humans searching was not for fear of Reeri’s disobedience but because he required them past retrieval.

So, too, did Reeri.

Even if this blade had been true, it would not have worked for a Yakka. And as they had no Divinity…only a human could kill Wessamony.

“Bithul,” Reeri said, flicking his gaze to the faithful guard. “Do you trust me?”

The door slammed open.

Cheeks aflame and eyes ablaze, Anula shouted, “Give me the Bone Blade.”